


tender & warm

by leighleleigh



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Established Relationship, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Protagonist is Akira, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighleleigh/pseuds/leighleleigh
Summary: It was still something of a revelation to wake up with Goro next to him.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	tender & warm

It was still something of a revelation to wake up with Goro next to him. 

They’d been together long enough for Akira to feel confident grabbing for Goro’s hand on the street rather than nervous, but sleeping over was still new. When Akira had sent Goro the text the night before -- a simple  _ come over? _ , but still daunting to type -- he’d drummed his fingers on the countertop for the next hour until he’d received an affirmative response, much to Sojiro’s irritation. It was just--. It had seemed like a big thing. Sojiro had closed the cafe for  _ Seijin no Hi _ , but Akira wasn’t old enough to qualify, so he’d gone out on a limb and hoped Goro didn’t know anyone participating in the ceremony. Adults’ Day was hardly a romantic holiday, but they’d never spent one together, just the two of them. 

So, Goro had arrived that night just as Akira was locking up the cafe. They’d curled up on Akira’s couch to watch reruns of Featherman and then, when they grew bored of that, a new show that Futaba had off-handedly mentioned that Goro would probably enjoy. They’d eventually moved to the bed when Akira caught himself nodding off a few times too many. Akira had been lulled to sleep by the smell of Goro’s shampoo and the warmth of his body. 

Now, Akira rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned his head. This close, Akira didn’t need his glasses to see the finer details of Goro’s face. His features were softened from sleep, the lines of his forehead smooth, lashes kissing the curves of his cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, an indignancy he’d never allow if he was awake, breath fanning the strands of hair splayed on the pillowcase. 

He was mostly covered by the blankets, but one of his hands was curled in a loose fist on the sheets by the pillow. Akira slid his arm impulsively closer and traced his little finger over the smooth skin of Goro’s hand. There was something chokingly intimate about this: Goro dozing beside him, hands warm where they touched, tucked beneath the blankets together. 

But Goro was a light sleeper. He shifted when Akira touched his hand, brow twitching as he began to wake up. Unlike Akira, Goro was a morning person. It didn’t take him long at all to blink away sleep and focus on what had woken him.

Akira shifted closer, wrapping his arms around Goro’s waist before he could start to make an escape to the bathroom downstairs. It was a battle of speed to keep Goro in bed on the rare mornings they got to spend them together. He was the type to sneak away to brush his teeth and try to slip back into bed like nothing had happened, leaving cold air and disappointment in his wake. Akira wished he wouldn’t — he loved seeing the muzzy, unkempt Goro that surfaced in the early morning. He even felt a bit privileged to see Goro that way, all those layers peeled back and his tender underbelly exposed. 

Thanks to the holiday, that wonderfully sweet version of Goro was still present at — Akira glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand, the glaring numbers large enough to read even without his glasses — 10 AM. Though Akira was hardly religious, he felt particularly blessed this morning. If this was how the year was to begin -- sleeping in  _ and  _ having Goro beside him -- maybe his luck was looking up. 

If Goro had a complaint about Akira’s clinginess, he didn’t voice it. He stretched out beneath the covers for a moment, bones cracking and popping from the curled-up position he’d slept in all night, before he began to fuss with his messy hair. Akira laughed groggily and reached out to stop him, clumsily catching Goro by the forearms instead of the wrists.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “I like this look.”

Goro sighed as if deeply troubled. “You would,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Akira said. What was the point in denying it? He liked everything about Goro — even his well-disguised arrogance and his cutting words — but Akira liked this especially, the version of Goro that no one else got to see. The Goro that played his cards close to the chest and pretended to like everyone; the Goro that put people in their place with only a cold stare; the Goro that disguised insults with pretty flattery. They were all fine, but  _ this  _ Goro, that hid soft smiles with the heel of his hand and let Akira hold him -- this Goro was his favorite. 

This Goro gave in quickly. He shifted so that he could share Akira’s pillow, bodies close and breath mingling. “And here I thought you only wore glasses for the aesthetic value.” 

Akira laughed at the implication and tucked his elbow beneath his head. He didn’t have a response, not one that wouldn’t sound overly sappy, so he stared at Goro instead.

“What?” Goro asked. His hand twitched toward his hair again.

“I want to kiss you.” 

That landed well. Goro looked pleased, though he made an effort to hide it. He was a sucker for compliments, indirect or otherwise, and his eyes gave him away. “Do it, then.” 

Akira didn’t waste time. He kissed Goro chastely at first, then open-mouthed when Goro pinched the thin skin over his hip bone. Goro, even when soft and sweet, could be a little mean. 

They kissed slowly for a while. Usually their time together was up against the clock: sneaking kisses between passing periods at school, hoping other members of the student council didn’t show up and question Akira’s frequent visits to their club room, playing footsie under a booth in the cafe before Sojiro called him back to work. Spending time at Goro’s apartment was a bit more relaxed -- he lived alone, after all -- but Goro always seemed to grow restless when they were there, frequently distracted by class work or college applications, less inclined to indulge Akira. 

So this, today,  _ here _ , was good.  _ So  _ good.

“How was that?” Akira teased when they finally parted.

Goro pinched him again, this time as punishment. “Average,” Goro snipped. 

Akira snickered. He snagged his fingers in the collar of Goro’s sleep shirt and said, “Maybe you should show me how it’s done,  _ Akechi-senpai _ .” 

Goro huffed. It was difficult to see the light pink tinge to his cheeks, but not impossible. “--the worst,” he muttered. It didn’t stop him from kissing Akira again, hard and heated. He licked into Akira’s mouth with a vengeance. He didn’t waste any time, either, doing tricks with his tongue that were guaranteed to get Akira hot under the collar. 

When Goro finally pulled away, Akira was panting and straining against his sleep shorts. 

“How was that?” Goro mocked. 

“Uh.” Akira blinked. 

Goro had the audacity to smirk at him. Its heart-stopping impact might have been ruined by his bedhead if Akira didn’t find every expression he made to have that same effect on him. “Speechless?” 

“ _ You _ try being on the other end of that,” Akira said. 

Goro preened. “Well—.” 

Akira kissed him before he had the chance to brag. 

He kept this kiss playful, pulling back to press his lips to the corners of Goro’s mouth a few times until Goro was swatting at him to stop. They laughed together — Goro giggled, actually, which meant he truly had all his walls down — and rustled around the bed. They wound up tangled together, Goro’s knee between his thighs, one of his legs over Goro’s waist. Akira licked his lips — swollen for sure — and pushed some of Goro’s hair out of his face for him. 

They settled in a comfortable silence, still entangled and catching their breath. Eventually, Akira rolled to his back. He didn’t want to let Goro go, so he pulled him along, stretching out beneath him like a satisfied housecat. He felt the warm curl of arousal as their hips met, but didn’t feel particularly rushed to see to it. Instead, Akira slid his hands up to hold Goro’s face. He cupped his cheeks as they kissed again. And again. And again. 

Akira had been content with slow and steady only moments ago, but the heat building between them was growing urgent. They hadn’t gotten this far often. It was still nerve-wracking in its own way, a cold hint of worry in his chest that he would do something wrong or come off as too eager to please. 

Well. That probably wasn’t as bad as doing something wrong. Akira suspected Goro liked when he was eager to please. 

When Goro pulled away this time, Akira was short of breath. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly. Goro caught him in the midst of this action, sucking filthy on his tongue. Akira heard white noise in his ears as his blood rushed down, arousal pooling low in his stomach.

“Goro,” Akira said, except it sounded like a groan. 

Goro stopped kissing him — not what Akira had meant to happen — and turned his head to look at the clock. “It’s late,” he said, breathless.

Akira blew a bit of hair out of his eyes. He felt like he’d been suddenly unmoored and thrown to sea. It took him a moment to focus, to think past the ache in his shorts. “Do you … want to get up?”

Contemplatively, Goro said, “We should eat something.” 

“Are you hungry?” 

Goro blinked. His fingers, which had snuck beneath the hem of Akira’s shirt, rubbed in idle circles. “No,” he said. 

“Me neither,” Akira told him. It felt like a whispered confession, like some awe-inspiring thing that rippled through the air around them.

They kissed again urgently. Goro pressed himself as close to Akira as he could, a solid weight above and against him, pinning him firmly to the bed. Goro slid his palms beneath Akira’s shirt, rucking it up, up, until it was pushed to his collarbone. He dropped kisses there too, punctuating them with sharp little nips that had Akira squirming in no time at all. Akira liked to mark Goro up too, but sometimes it was nice to just lie back and let Goro do what he wanted. 

He swallowed when Goro pushed his shorts down. He had to bite back a gasp when Goro tugged his own out of the way, not even off, but stretched between his thighs. They moved together in a rush of heat, Goro rocking against Akira while he mouthed along his neck and collar. Akira writhed under the attention. He had enjoyed the few times Goro had actually been inside him, but he liked this uncoordinated rutting too. They were both slick with arousal, the wet slide of them roaring in Akira’s ears. Goro’s cock sometimes missed the mark and smeared against the inside of Akira’s thighs, which never failed to make Akira moan. It was messy and perfect, and when Goro reached his peak he bit Akira so hard that he pulled him right over the edge. 

They stayed like that for a while, Goro breathing hard against Akira’s chest, Akira holding him loosely around the waist. They parted slowly, but didn’t move far from each other’s reach, their legs tangled together as the cold air crept back in. Soon, the mess between them would grow cool and dry and become uncomfortable. Soon, the pleasant burn along Akira’s collarbone would become a throb and require the soothing gel he kept in the back of the fridge downstairs. Now, Akira wanted to be lazy. 

After a while, Goro made an airy sound that seemed like a laugh. 

“What?” Akira asked, half-muffled.

“I’m a bit hungry after all.”

Akira buried a snort in his pillow.

“Don’t laugh. Go make breakfast.” 

“You’re kicking me out of my own bed? How cruel.” 

Goro swatted at him. Akira laughed. He pushed himself up and shook out his hair, then climbed over Goro to step off the bed and make himself presentable enough to go downstairs. He was starting to feel hungry too -- they’d worked up an appetite together, after all. “Does his highness have any requests?” 

“Coffee,” Goro said.

“That’s not a very balanced breakfast.” 

Goro made a vaguely offensive gesture over his back that made Akira snicker. “Fine, fine. I’ll make coffee.” He kissed Goro on the crown of his head, unnecessarily dramatic, and retreated before Goro could twist around and swat at him with better aim. 

Goro sighed and settled on his back, apparently not intending to get up and follow Akira any time soon. “Miso soup?”

“I can’t make  _ soup  _ at Le Blanc. It’s heresy.” 

“Grilled fish?” 

Fondly, Akira said, “Only because I like you.” 

Goro didn’t say it back, but the way he averted his eyes as his cheeks turned red was enough. 

  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> not sure if this should be 'm' or 'e', but as it is not as descriptive as my usual smut fics, i started it low. i've got dozens of unfinished akira/goro fic on my computer and my goal for this year is to finish at least some of them, but instead i wrote this new one. it was meant to be for new year's but i missed the day. there's a paragraph in about the start of the year that i left because jan 13th is still early in the year, but i did cut some parts about watching the lights that i might try to incorporate into something else. we'll see. also, tbh, not entirely sure either of them feels exactly in character, but what can you do. i'm out of practice.


End file.
